


Table For Two

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad Acting, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Food Porn, Grinding, Humor, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Pillow Principality Aziraphale (Good Omens), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise, Restaurants, Roleplay, Semi-Public Sex, Service Top Crowley (Good Omens), Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Roleplay, So many food puns, Started as a crackfic but here we are, Table Sex, Waiter Crowley, breaking character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23341012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When the first course arrived at the table, Aziraphale could almost have been convinced that the restaurant around him was actually real, that maybe he'd simply enjoy a nice meal and go to bed with a full stomach. That is, till he looked up and saw the waiter.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 133





	Table For Two

The sat a bit impatiently at his table, glancing around every few minutes. He was beginning to regret his suggestion to "give something new a try for a change", if it meant he'd have to wait around for over an hour just to get a bite to eat. While he had absolutely no need to, being so accustomed to doing so whenever they went out, his body was well-habituated to it- and was doing its best to make sure he knew that.

The entire restaurant had been created just a few hours ago through the use of miracles, and he had been ushered into this new extravagant place without much information, right as he was enjoying a quiet late afternoon on the porch of their cottage. Crowley just asked him to find himself a seat, that he'd meet up with him shortly, and that he had a "reservation" waiting. None of his surroundings were real- well, aside from the food. That was very much real, right along with his hunger. 

He'd gotten a bit too excited the night before and blurted out that he was up to...what was it called...acting in a role? So far he was much less acting and more feeling very much like his normal self, though especially restless. He remembered requesting that he should be surprised back when they were going over the very loose details, so didn't exactly know what was in store throughout the evening.

His foot was starting to tap on the floor, jealously watching all the other patrons feasting away on the other tables. Servers clamored around with carts, the aroma of freshly-baked bread, rosemary and honey permeating the air.

The "people" looked pretty realistic, actually. Sometimes their faces would obscure a little, but other than that he felt like he was sitting in a regular, fine-dining restaurant. There were gleaming light fixtures and upholstery near every entrance, windows that revealed a beautiful display of stars that were most certainly not authentic, as he'd left right before sunset begun to show outside. He was situated right in the middle of everything, and was quite enjoying smoothing his hands along the snowy linen tablecloth.

There was an abundance of plants contained in ornate pots, extraordinarily lush and tall, sitting against all the walls. A row of ivy draped down between partitions that separated some of the rows of seats. The whole place had a sense of elegance, lavishness that that he found hard to fit in with somehow- regardless of the circumstances he found himself there.

He couldn't imagine how this could possibly play out, wondering if Crowley had honestly just decided to play a sneaky trick on him, leave him there the entire night! It seemed everybody else was getting their orders, including those who'd arrived far later into the scene than he did. He felt himself salivate slightly as he watched a waitress hand a platter with some kind of glistening bisque dish on it to a couple to his left, large chunks of crisp bread melting a slab of sweetened butter as soon as it hit the surface of it. 

Just when he was about to give up and call off the whole thing, ask that they actually go out and make up for this prank, a small saucer appeared on the placemat in front of him, a tiny portion of...oysters? He would've been irritated by the small portion size if he wasn't amused by the lack of subtlety in choice of food- _and_ he was far too famished to care. He realized he'd never even ordered anything. It could've been a mistake on demon's part, forgetting a few aspects of a classical dining experience, but it didn't matter. He didn't mind as long as it was edible and within reach.

The presentation was actually quite nice, the morsels surrounded by a pleasantly creamy looking sauce, sprinkled with herbs and seasoning, and placed on a small bowl of ice- completed with wedges of lemon on the side. Considering it'd been fabricated- he assumed- he was impressed, though still sullen.

His gaze followed the hand that'd placed the dish down and choked back a chuckle as he met eyes with his husband, who was dressed in a very convincing waiter outfit. He'd suspected he'd come in the form of a customer perhaps, something along those lines, but this wasn't at all unwelcome. He still wasn't sure how the night could possibly progress like this, but was beginning to enjoy the silly nature of this game. Especially now that there was food involved.

"I apologize for your wait, sir. Here is your entrée." the demon spoke cordially with a slight bow. Not a bad touch, he thought. The suit looked well-tailored, somehow a shade or two darker than the other staff. Aziraphale's eyes were drawn down to the fitted vest, the snug cuffs on his wrists, his sleek collar complete with a little red bowtie. He averted his gaze. 

"It's no trouble." he said with a polite smile, still considering if he should chide Crowley for testing his patience after this was all over and done with. Whatever _this_ was. He looked back down at his plate excitedly, making an show of ignoring the _waiter_ now as he carefully adjusted his plate and straightened himself up in preparation. He wouldn't be too quick to give the troublemaker attention after that rubbish.

"My name is Crowley. I'l be taking care of you tonight, Mr. ..." At this, Aziraphale had to bite down on his lip to keep himself from cackling. So he wasn't even going to _change_ it? How was he supposed to keep his face straight when his reserve was being tested like this?! The demon had even gone to the trouble of speaking with a slightly lower tone, a bit smoother. How adorable. He could've stood up and kissed him right then and there if he wasn't too busy ogling the entrée.

"F-Fell. Mr. Fell, and thank you." he finally muttered, turning his face to the side as a grin creeped up on his face without permission. There was a cart beside the demon that he'd pushed up as he introduced himself, and sitting on top was a bucket of red wine surrounded by some ice. 

"Can I fill your cup?" he asked pleasantly, motioning to a tall, crystalline glass that most definitely wasn't there a moment ago. Aziraphale just nodded, trying to keep himself from speaking as much as possible as he desperately tried to control the laughter that wanted to break free. He shook his head; well, might as well play along. Crowley had certainly gone to a lot of trouble to make tonight as realistic as possible.

The bottle cap soon popped open, and the angel busied himself with biting into the first oyster- he wasn't exactly sure if it was proper to do so while the...waiter- was still standing there, but he doubted Crowley was going to be keeping track of social etiquette. 

He wondered if all the food that would eventually be served had been predetermined or if Crowley was just making it all up as he went along. That would make the most sense, honestly. He wasn't much one to think things out before diving into something.

"Here you are." he said as he pushed the glass next to Aziraphale's hand; he was a bit distracted by the succulent taste, juice dripping down his chin just a bit, and he hastily grabbed a napkin to wipe it up. He couldn't help but remember his usual manners, even though they weren't necessary. It wasn't as if the "people" around him would notice.

"Thank you, my dear-" he said without thinking, and somehow felt a bit flushed as he said it, even though it was a completely normal phrase for him, "sir." he finished, sheepishly looking up and the de- _waiter,_ was grinning at him. 

He noticed he'd even gone to the lengths of changing his eyes, so they looked more human, though still retained their usual golden hue. He missed the pretty slits of iris, but appreciated the effort nonetheless. 

He could feel himself quickly losing composure, a giggle held back behind tight lips. So he'd already failed at this whole... _roleplaying_ business. At least it was a fun little experiment. He doubted they'd last much longer, both fall into fits of laughter and instead go have a proper meal together at the Ritz. It was alright, there was always next time.

"May I take another order for you?" The angel looked curiously at him, wondering how this was supposed to work. He hadn't even ordered his current course to begin with, and now he was being asked what would come next, right when he was getting started! He had the suspicion the waiter in question was making things up as he went.

Crowley stepped closer, bringing a large menu in front of him and setting it down on the table. It looked legitimate, an ivory page with long rows of options to choose from under a glossy covering; he actually worried for a moment, not knowing where to begin. Of course he'd made sure to include all his favorites, the crafty thing.

Crowley pulled a pen and a little notepad out of a pocket, looking expectantly at the angel.

"Ah...what would you suggest?" he murmured helplessly, looking over his shoulder. The waiter was standing close behind him, and placed one hand down on the edge of his chair as he bent down to look at the menu. He could feel a slight warmth of the being behind him, practically hovering over him, but kept his poise firm. They were, after all, strangers to each other.

"What sounds good right now, sir? Bitter, tangy or perhaps something sweeter?" Aziraphale would prefer to think he was just a bit restless right now, but he could've sworn he heard the slightest hiss in his voice on the last word. "I doubt you could make a poor choice, Mr. Fell. You look like you have good taste." The angel decided to ignore that comment, pretending to look closer at the menu in his hands.

"My, I could hardly choose! Oh...why don't you just pick for me?" he sighed, crossing his legs to calm a little hop that'd started up in his legs. "This is my first time visiting this...establishment, so I've no idea what would be best. I'll take whatever you recommend."

"It'd be my pleasure." He nearly choked on his wine as he heard that, even though it was such an innocent expression. He simply bit into the last few oysters, drizzling them with a good portion of lemon juice in an effort to distract his mind. It dripped down his chin once again, and he dabbed his mouth roughly with his napkin. He didn't know why it was so hard to retain table manners today.

The waiter had stayed in place while he finished eating, and he heard the sound of him scribbling a few things down on paper. Crowley looked down to see the empty plate and smiled, extending a hand to place it back on his cart. 

Alright, so he might've eaten a bit quickly, Aziraphale thought as he realized the whole thing had taken place within about five minutes. To be fair, he was beyond famished and the teeny dish was hardly enough to warrant a long amount of time to savor it. 

"I'll take that for you. How was it?" he questioned, voice a bit softer, and he had to wonder if Crowley was actually cooking everything himself. It certainly tasted better than anything he could normally miracle up.

"Oh, utterly marvelous!" he said truthfully, a bit irritated that he hadn't simply ordered another serving. He could gorge himself on that dish alone. "My compliments to the, er...chef." 

" _Perfect_. Is there anything you need, sir? If there's anything I can do to make your experience tonight better, just let me know." Aziraphale quickly shook his head, though blushed a little under the attention; he couldn't help but enjoy such treatment. He was already coming up with a few ideas, but it certainly wasn't anything he could voice.

"No, but thank you, _Mr._ Crowley _."_ he said politely, reddening even more as he spoke. 

The waiter smiled once more, nodded, and left him in a bit of a flustered state. The sound of the cart wheeling away gave him a much-needed moment to to breathe. He was already feeling a little pampered, and it was certainly having an effect on him.

Well, maybe this night wasn't going so bad after all.

* * *

The wait for the second course wasn't nearly as long, but Aziraphale still all but jumped with excitement when the dish was handed down to him. It looked to be some sort of soup, a few lumps of something sitting below the thick surface. His hands itched to reach for it, but patiently kept himself still while it was set in place.

This was only slightly bigger than the last course, and he couldn't help but wonder if Crowley was toying with him, keeping him hungry for more. He should've expected as much, he thought with a huff. 

"French onion soup with Croutons au Gratin." he said smoothly, looking distinctly proud of himself. "Does this suffice? I can always-"

"No, no. This looks delicious! Thank you, this is perfect." he chirped, looking down at the square saucer with excitement. Now this was something special; it looked quite rich, a thick coating of cheese, toasted till just a bit of char appeared, sitting on top of an amber soup. A few large chunks of crouton were buried within, and a there was a garnish of chives and thyme. 

The first bite gave him both a satisfied crunch and a wave of nostalgia, realizing he hadn't eaten that dish since their wedding. He'd forgotten how the savory broth stayed warm on his tongue, cheese melting as soon as he swirled it around his tongue. He muffled a little moan of happiness, aware Crowley was just a few feet away, conveniently wiping down the tables beside him.

He didn't want to spend too much time wondering what was going through his mind, instead dipping his spoon back down for another full bite. Caramel-colored stew pooled onto the utensil, and he stared at it admirably for a moment before bringing it up to his lips.

" _Mmmhh."_ he sighed out, this time a bit louder. In fact, he decided he should be playing into this slightly sexual undertone Crowley had been playing at- unless he'd misread the situation somehow. He could only assume the night was meant to be a kind of foreplay, and if not he didn't care to hold back his pleased noises. He was going to enjoy his food to the fullest either way.

He let a tiny trail of broth drizzle down from the side of his mouth, keeping his eyes on his meal; they soon drifted shut as he tasted an especially decadent chunk of the bread. It wrapped around his tongue and melted into his mouth, aromatic seasoning drifting up as he nibbled at it. His tastebuds demanded another eager mouthful soon after, clinking the spoon back in and trying to get as much on the utensil with one scoop as possible.

He scrunched up his face with pleasure as the flavors met his tongue once more, eyes rolling back just a bit. He had to admit that waiting till he was quite ravenous did triple his enjoyment, the thick soup sitting behind his lips while he hummed blissfully.

"Enjoying your meal?" 

Aziraphale jumped as he heard the voice, remembering himself after getting a little sidetracked with his indulgence, realizing there was only a few drops left. He turned with a prim smile, dabbing his mouth modesty as he met eyes with the server.

"Oh yes!" he sighed, seeing Crowley pull out his notepad once more. "Ah, would you mind dreadfully if I asked you to choose my next course again? I trust your judgement."

"Not at all, Mr. Fell. Anything to help." he replied punctually, smiling; the angel wondered if he was just imaging the slight tilt in his gaze, the insignificant shift of his tone. "Anything to help." 

* * *

The third dish arrived soon enough; Aziraphale had been occupying his thoughts with his wine and the musical ambiance drifting through the dining room till the waiter came back with another dish, this time containing a chocolate creation. His eyes got bigger as he looked at it, just barely controlling the urge to reach for it greedily as it was placed down in front of him.

On the outside it looked to be a round circle of cake, which bled out a rich, mousse center as he sank a spoon down into it. There was also a slight crunch when his utensil hit it, a crack of a hardened sugar coating, much like crème brûlée. There was a trail of thick cream drizzled on the side, and a garnish of mint.

"That's perfectly lovely!" he explained, a slight wiggle forcing itself out through his shoulders. Crowley reached back to the cart and came back with another dish, a tiny saucer with a few crêpes, setting it down next to the other. "Oh my, what's this?" 

"Just a little something especially for you, free of charge. Thought you might enjoy it. Just a hunch." Aziraphale might've felt patronized, but couldn't find the care to, not as he quickly pulled both dishes closer and slid his spoon into each, getting a taste of the two desserts at the same time. He let his eyes drift shut, disregarding the little sighs of bliss he made when all the flavors and textures ran together.

Sugar-crusted berries were buried inside and surrounding the crêpes, toasted almonds, cinnamon and powdered sugar sprinkled on top. A few small scoop of vanilla ice cream were slowly melting on the side, and there was a good helping of chocolate syrup drizzled to the side, more than necessary to be presentable, and he was especially grateful for it. 

Crowley had really outdone himself. Regardless of any powers involved in creating all this, it truly was divine. 

He'd just sank his teeth around a good helping of the rich, sweet cream center when he had to put a hand over his mouth to keep himself from choking it out. He felt something rustle underneath the table, something petting at one of his legs. 

He looked around and realized the waiter was nowhere in sight, and tried to discreetly pull up the tablecloth enough to see underneath. Crowley grinned up at him from his position on the floor, looking completely innocent despite the hand that was creeping up the angel's knee. 

"Dea- _Sir,_ what exactly are you doing down there?" he whispered, feeling his face warm up as he watched fingers squeeze into his thighs. "I don't believe I ordered a shoe polish..."

"Just a little something to help service you better, improve your dining experience, Mr. Fell. Don't mind me, just enjoy your meal." he said, voice soft and quiet. Despite the knowledge that the world around him was just a fabrication, he could almost feel eyes on his back, and quickly shoved the tablecloth back down as thumbs rubbed over his ankles in slow circles. 

Aziraphale shuddered, hands gripping on the edge of the table. He couldn't exactly do much, glancing around and trying to act normal in the crowd. He straightened up, clearing his throat. He'd be calm, and enjoy his food. He wasn't going to give in that easily.

Nimble hands worked to spread his knees open, palms rubbing tenderly on his inner thighs. Aziraphale gulped down a long drink of wine, feeling the server nuzzle his cheek into the plump skin, then run his hands up and down the entirety of his legs in slow strokes. He was pressing little kisses down all the while.

The angel huffed with frustration, tilting up his chin as he brought another bite of crêpe to his mouth with a long hum. He was surprised to see a little section of berry compote wedged inside this slice, and was not at all displeased, smiling against the spoon. 

He swallowed as a finger skimmed over his groin, prodding carefully while the other hand pushed his knees farther open as they reflexively tried to pull together. There was a lull, a moment where the hands just rested in place, and Aziraphale dared to take another bite of creamy mousse, wrapping his tongue around the spoon. He was fully determined to enjoy every bit of it.

A tongue then drifted right over his crotch. Aziraphale's legs jumped upwards, knees nearly hitting the table. He clamped a hand over his mouth, face filling with heat as he felt fingers working at his fly. He should've been expected something like this for quite a while now, but it still managed to catch him off guard. He felt like a neon light in the crowded room, glancing left and right to see if anybody could hear the little noise that had escaped his lips in his surprise.

Thankfully Crowley hadn't thought to give these little illusory humans awareness, continuing to go about their meals without suspicion. He could hear all their voices all they talked among themselves, metal utensils clinking against dishware, a melody playing somewhere far beneath all of it. This felt shockingly real, and now that this was actually happening to him, he felt an embarrassment far greater than he could've imagined. 

He couldn't help it, he'd always been so careful to watch his manners in public, comply to these human customs. He couldn't help but squirm and whimper as he realized he was about to be dreadfully _debauched_.

He lifted up the cloth again, looking down with an expression of worry. Crowley's nose with rubbing a line down his groin, eyes shut and concentrated, before glancing up to smile at him. If there was a shred of shame in him, Aziraphale certainly couldn't see any right now.

"Ah...m-may-be we should take this elsewhere? Surely you have a back room, or-"

"Everywhere else is packed. It's a rather busy night." he murmured, a finger popping open the button on the angel's trousers. He tugged the zipper down with his teeth, holding Aziraphale's gaze as he gingerly slid his tongue between skin and the waistband of his boxers. "Think you wouldn't want any prying eyes catching you like this...or would you?" he breathed with a smirk, nudging his lips around the tip of his cock. "My services can be discreet as you wish. S'all the same to me." 

"No, no- definitely not!" he grunted, shoving his napkin over his own mouth to silence his breath as a hot flush crept into his face. The idea was utterly scandalizing to him, and Crowley knew it.

" _Hmmm_...s'a shame really. Can't imagine why you wouldn't want to show yourself off. I'm certain my co-workers would be perfectly jealous that I get to have my mouth around such a cute customer. Now just relax...let me have a little taste."

The angel shook his head with exasperation, gasping at the sudden wet heat, the cloth slipping from his hands as he grabbed at the table. His cock slid smoothly into the waiter's mouth, twitching at the attention. He tried to occupy his thoughts as he gulped up the last few sips of wine in his glass, and held back a shaky laugh as he had an idea.

" _Oh_ \- oh, waiter?" he grunted out, feeling a petty smile crawl over his face. Crowley stopped his movements, poking his face from under the cloth attentively. Aziraphale quickly moved his legs upwards so nobody would see him, careful to keep his voice low.

"How can I serve you, Mr. Fell?" he said, letting his face press obscenely against Aziraphale's cock as he spoke. It'd gone pink from all the blood rushing to it, stiffening more by the second; he kissed at the side of it, tongue hovering over it as he waited for a response.

"I-I'd-" he had to take a few moments to collect his thoughts, mind going blank as he stared at the sight below, "I'd like a refill on my wine, please." Yes, this would be fun to watch. If Crowley was going to keep up this act, he'd have to follow the rules he'd set up for himself.

He felt a flash of satisfaction as he watched Crowley's grin droop just for a moment, before it grew even wider, and Aziraphale knew he was thinking of something absolutely wicked.

"Yes sir, coming right up." 

He didn't move one inch, a waiter identical to him walking up behind Aziraphale a moment later with another cart. Aziraphale watched in disbelief, grumbling as the second Crowley refilled his glass effortlessly, smiling elegantly as ever down at him.

"Is there anything else I can get you? Perhaps another dessert?" 

"Nothing at all, thank you." he mumbled, crossing his arms together as he felt a breath of a chuckle blow against his thighs, before his mouth closed around the shaft and pulled it into an even deeper suck.

The "other" waiter walked away, leaving just the two of them and a quickly rising discomposure. Aziraphale's torso sank against the table, a moan muffled in his elbow as he tried to collect himself and sit up again. He shakily reached for his fork, eventually able to slice out a dollop of chocolate ooze that now was nothing but a pile of mush from all the attempts he'd made at stabbing it, hands trembling too much to retain control.

He'd never realized how difficult it was to use normal behavior in public until now, when he body was turning against him so cruelly.

"Cro-Mr. Crowley..." he whined, bucking his hips up into the mouth that was mercilessly swallowing his cock. Tongue twirled around his length, and for a moment the waiter lifted up so his lips were just locked around the head, coolness flowing onto the skin from the air around. Then he sank back down, somehow even deeper than before. He could go farther if he wanted to, and had done so many times, but was evidently enjoying the act of having the normal physical limitations that any human might. His mouth was unbearably hot, fingers sliding along his balls tantalizingly.

_"Hmmm?"_

" _P-ah-please..._ not here. Not in front of everyone." he whimpered, hands clutching into the tablecloth for dear life. He felt a climax quickly approaching, and the thought of having so many eyes watching while his face squeezed tight and he made such mortifying sounds was making his pulse pound in his ears.

The hold around his cock slipped off with an undignified popping sound, Aziraphale's heart skipping a few beats. "Very well. Perhaps you'd like to pay for your meal, then?"

The angel felt both a wave of relief and disappointment, the waiter grazing one last lick over his work before he zipped him back up into a _very_ tight fly. He was so hard at this point it was getting painful, and quivered as he tried to right himself on his seat. 

Aziraphale felt around with a sweaty hand for his wallet, another unnecessary accessory he liked to carry to blend in. Crowley stopped him with a hand, appearing behind him as if nothing had occurred just a moment ago.

"Ah, we don't accept cards." he spoke, lips pink from his little service. "Not checks either." The angel looked at him in confusion, rustling through his wallet to see if he conveniently had any cash. "Nope, not that either."

"What? Then how exactly am I supposed to pay you?" He felt tender, body responsive to every little movement, sound and, unfortunately, Crowley. He looked up in a haze of arousal at the server, eyes catching on each detail of his unfairly promiscuous outfit. He had no excuse to wear such a thing, fabric draping perfectly around every sharp angle on his slender form.

All Crowley had to do was take him somewhere now, into a dark closet or conveniently private back room that somehow hadn't crossed the waiter's mind before; it didn't matter where. He just needed this charade to all be over with. He needed Crowley.

"Don't worry, Mr. Fell. I'll show you." The angel nodded swiftly, accepting the hand that was offered to help him to his feet. He hoped this would be quick, that they'd get through the crowd and to somewhere hidden. He was acutely aware of the uncomfortably thick bulge in his trousers, and held more tightly to Crowley's grip as he wobbled on shaky legs.

He slouched against the table as the waiter removed all the dishes that remained, impatiently rubbing his arms. Crowley stacked everything up on his cart, pushing it to the side and even giving the top of it a short wipe-down for good measure. Aziraphale was getting infuriated by both his attention to realism and lack of it.

"Thank you for being so patient with me, sir. Just bend over, right here." he tapped the table invitingly, and the angel instantly froze. If he wasn't red before, he certainly was now, feeling a heat like nothing he'd felt before rise into his face as his brain practically short-circuited with embarrassment at the prospect of what this outlandish waiter was implying.

"Wa-wait, no, no, no-I- _Crowley_ , you can't be serious!" he all but wailed, trying to keep his voice low enough to blend in with the conversations around. "Are you out of your mind?! All these people, I-"

Crowley stepped towards him and cupped a hand under his chin, looking at him with a strange softness, one that for a moment broke through his facade. "How else are you going to pay, Mr. Fell? What, are you feeling nervous?" his words were gentle, smile remaining fixed in place as the angel searched for words. 

"Everybody's watching." he choked out, voice high and swelling with his need. Crowley rubbed his back comfortingly, watching the angel bite his lip in frustration.

"What's it matter? You're _gorgeous_ , certainly the loveliest customer I've ever had." he whispered, the craftiness coming back to his tone as he pressed his torso against the angel's. "Come now, I've been good, haven't I? Weren't you pleased with my service?" 

Aziraphale nodded slowly, wanting more than anything to lean into the touch. "So I deserve a nice big tip, don't I?" The angel sucked in a breath; Crowley pulled back, their bodies close but not touching. Unfairly so. He forgot how dreadfully good at tempting the brute was. 

"Come now, Mr. Fell. If you let me, I'll make sure you don't leave hungry tonight." he finished, face close enough to Aziraphale's ear that his breath ghosted warm air over it.

The angel clenched his eyes close, swallowing, and kept them firmly shut as he slowly turned around. He felt with his hands till he touched the tabletop, standing there sheepishly for a moment before he hesitantly lowered himself down on his belly. He hid his face in his arms, hoping Crowley would at least be merciful enough to hurry, so he wouldn't have to stay in this utterly unseemly position for much longer.

He heard a satisfied noise behind him, a hand softly trailing over his back. 

"That's right, that's perfect. Leave everything to me, alright?"

Aziraphale didn't have it in himself to reply anymore, shaking at every touch he felt as the waiter explored the freely given body beneath him. Now that he was given the chance, his hands had become a lot more greedy, shamelessly groping at his ass and the creases of his inner thighs. He gripped handfuls of it through the fabric, pressing his pelvis into him. 

He sneaked a hand slowly up the angel's coat, tugging the hem upwards as he went. Aziraphale felt a breeze of air at the sudden exposure, quickly turning his face to look behind his shoulder.

"Y-you don't have to...do _that_. There's no need to remove anything more than what you must." he croaked, face soon pushed gently back into place.

"You're right. We'll leave just the shirt on then; I think you'll look especially appetizing like that." Aziraphale wanted to glare, but was too desperate for touch to mind. Crowley peeled off the coat in a few swift tugs, sliding his hands under the angel's chest to pop open a few of his shirt buttons. He pulled the back of his collar, slipping it down enough for his neck and a good portion of shoulder to show. "Oh my, looks like I've finally found the main course, hm? I don't remember seeing your name on the menu, but it's exactly what I would've ordered."

Aziraphale choked out a breath, pressing timidly into the slight grind the waiter had started. He wondered if he could get him off with just that. He felt a spike of hope, thinking he might be able to keep his dignity after all. Well, what was left of it.

The invitation did not go unnoticed, as his hips were soon grabbed and squeezed, a rough friction rubbing behind him as he was rocked into. Yes, if he just kept that up for a little longer, maybe it'd be enough! He leaned back into the touch, letting a hint of a moan escape his lips for good measure.

"You like that? You want me so much already? Just imagine what it'll feel like when I'm buried inside you." he purred, thrusting a few times to accentuate his words. "It'll feel so good, being fucked right in the middle of everything, where everyone can see you, hear the noises you make." 

"Crowley!" he whimpered, giving up hope as he felt a nudge at the waistband of his trousers. The hand stilled at his voice, doubt seeping into the air around them.

"You don't want this?"

"No, I do, but-" 

"Angel." he said softly, breaking his character for a moment to caress Aziraphale's chin, turning his face so he could look up at the demon's eyes, "If you truly aren't enjoying this, we can stop right here. I guess I went a bit overboard, dived into things without talking it out. I got too excited at the idea of having you like this; should've made sure you were comfortable before we even started."

"No, it's okay." he whispered, face somehow flushing more as he looked up at the familiar eyes, lost in their comfort. "I'm alright, just a little shy. You did...an alarmingly good job on all this, dear. I can hardly tell what's real right now. I have to admit, it is all rather thrilling."

"So you do want to keep going?" he said hopefully, irises changing back to their more humanoid shapes, sneaking a kiss on his shoulder. Aziraphale chuckled, leaning up against him to connect their bodies closer.

"Yes, please do, _Mr._ Crowley." his voice took on a more playful edge, slipping in a groan at the end to encourage the waiter on. "How else am I going to pay for that wonderful meal? All your outstanding service this evening? I trust you. Go on and swallow me right up." 

There wasn't any point in trying to remain in any way decent, his trousers soon being shoved to the floor by clever hands- not even his _shoes_ were spared. They all sat pitifully between his feet, and he was feeling incredibly flushed from the sudden exposure.

"That's right, say my name, just like that. It sounds so beautiful coming off your tongue...don't worry, I'm going to make a proper _feast_ of you. I knew I would the moment I saw you sitting there, all huffy and _needy_ , knew you needed to be properly satisfied. Judging by by how you're reacting, I'd say it's been _much_ too long for you, craving a bit of touch."

"I-I'll have you know, sir, I've _never_ done this with anyone- much less in public space like this. I can hardly help how my body's responding." he gasped, somewhere in between amusement and a near-fearful anticipation.

"Oh _Mr. Fell,_ then I'd say you're in for quite a treat."

Aziraphale panted a few times, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. He was bared almost completely, his shirt the only thing that gave him any sort of modesty. He desperately clinged to it, hiding his face in the folds. He felt his stomach press against the smooth, cool tablecloth, feeling not unlike a meal about to be consumed.

Crowley ran his tongue up the angel's spine, now hovering over him closely. It was strangely normal feeling this time, lacking the usual length and slitted tip that was usual for him. It took longer strokes, special attention to reach all the places he knew Aziraphale liked. He was leaving nowhere forgotten, beginning at his heels and travelling up his legs, hands fondling everywhere else. Hot streaks of saliva now coated his back, shoulders, and of course in that especially sensitive place right beside his ear. Oh, he was thorough. 

This would drive him mad.

The grinding hadn't stopped either, just slower as the waiter busied himself with laving the angel up and down. Aziraphale felt the friction of sleek suit pants rubbing against him and a steadily growing erection.

He could hardly remember where he was by the time Crowley had made it to his flanks, brought back to the present by a human passing by to his left, completely unaware as everybody else. He tilted his face to the side, giving the waiter access to the shell of his ear, which he quickly nibbled onto with a pleased sound.

He was sure Crowley would gladly leave him breathless and throbbing a few more hours if it meant he could savor him longer, but he was in no mind to keep waiting anymore, feeling his cock bob against the bottom of the table every time the waiter humped against him.

" _Mmmmm-_ are-aren't you hungry? You've been toying with your- _fff_ -food too long." he gasped, looking behind with a look of plea. Crowley seemed to agree with that sentiment, snapping his hips into the soft flesh with a growl of satisfaction and rocking the angel forward.

"I think you're right, Mr. Fell...hm, we just need to prepare you a bit before I can enjoy the rest of my payment." he said amusedly, and the angel started to use a miracle for the task, but Crowley stopped him with a hand, patting his back. "Shame I didn't carry any lube in my suit today. I just didn't expect to have full-course meal spread out under me this morning." Aziraphale could've laughed at the poor attempt at flirtation, but couldn't get anything out of his mouth aside from very inappropriate noises. "Ah! I've just the thing."

The waiter moved back a moment, riffling around on the cart that sat neglected by the table. Aziraphale dared to look over and see what he was doing, but in the process remembered the people surrounding him and shoved his face back in his elbow.

He heard a clink, Crowley stepped back into place and tipping a bottle of oil into palm. The angel jolted as he felt a slick finger graze over his hole, the waiter kneading his other hand into his thighs, planting kisses over his nape. 

There was no pain when he pressed in, accustomed to the feeling by now but tensed from the embarrassment as he realized what he was about to do, in a room filled an audience, regardless of their unconcerned conversations and laughter all around.

"There we are, sir, just relax. _Let me in."_ he murmured as he began gentle thrusts with his finger. He didn't need to go nearly so slow, and in fact it only riled the angel up further. He easily slid in another, thankfully not getting too caught up in the role to act as though this was in any way his first time. They were both getting a little impatient.

Aziraphale shuddered as he felt the waiter's mouth sink around his neck, teeth prodding at the skin. He missed the sharp points, how they'd leave little dark pink rows of marks he could admire in the mirror later, but appreciated how it enabled Crowley to use more pressure without damaging the tender flesh.

Three fingers were inside now, movements becoming faster. He could hear the waiter's breath speeding, knowing he was getting hungrier by the moment. The feeling of being spread open was satisfying as ever, but it was hard to allow himself to enjoy it in the busy room. Every noise he was making was muted behind his arms, eyes scrunched close in an attempt to block out the world.

He heard a buckle unfastening behind him, heartbeat picking up. "Looks like you're just about ready. Just one more thing..." 

Crowley wrapped a hand under one of Aziraphale's knees hoisted him up, flipping him over and setting him down on his back. He lifted the angel's knees up and over his lanky shoulders, locking the ankles around his back. Aziraphale frantically looked around, hastily moving his arms to cover his face from view, but the waiter caught them and pulled them to his sides.

Before he could complain, he felt something warm and hard prod at him. He bit back a moan, body already responding out of familiarity before the head had even pushed inside. The waiter slid a thumb in the side of his mouth, forcing his trembling lips open.

"None of that. I want to hear everything, Mr. Fell." he murmured as he licked at his neck. "I want to hear that beautiful voice of yours without anything holding it back." He rubbed his tip against the angel's perineum teasingly, smiling with contentment as a moan finally made its way up his throat. "That's it, absolutely perfect. You sound delicious, you know. I'm not going to let a you hold back a single one of those noises tonight."

Aziraphale nodded, lids falling shut as he let out a mortifying gasp, forgetting himself for a moment when the head finally slid in. He arched his hips forward, encouraging Crowley to sink deeper. The first minute they both stayed still, the angel enjoying the initial stretch, letting his body adjust to the fullness. There was a slight ache, mingling with the ever-present pulse of arousal, and he let his mouth fall slack as he breathed into the feeling.

His head was laying back, and though his vision was upside-down, he was able to finally look around at the crowd surrounding their table. It was such a strange feeling, doing something so obviously obscene in such a public space- and how nobody even batted an eye. Everybody was still completely focused on their meals and conversations, and here he was being ravished. What a strange restaurant this was.

"What's wrong, Mr. Fell?"

"I just thought-I- _ahh!"_ The waiter was beginning to move now, pelvis rocking steadily as he brought his hands down on both sides of the angel, watching his every expression.

"What? That people would stare? There's nothing out of the ordinary going on here. Everybody's just having a nice meal, and I'm enjoying mine. Very much so, in fact. You taste marvelous...I might even say _Heavenly?"_

"Oh, you- _hhmgg_ -" he mewled, making a note to lecture Crowley on using such ungodly awful jokes at times like these. Thankfully it didn't take him out of the moment at all, the sensations of being gradually opened up quieting his mind to everything but the pleasure. He couldn't help but like the idea that he was just one of the many dishes, being wholly devoured by a particularly famished patron.

The waiter pulled out nearly all the way, taking his time with a few shallow thrusts to frustrate the poor angel further, and finally plunged in once more, now entirely sheathed. He cupped one hand over the angel's quivering fingers, the other rubbing a thumb on the soft underside of a knee.

"Oh, you're a gorgeous sight. Just look at you, all spread out for me. You might as well double as a centerpiece." he muttered, his cock sliding ever so close to where he knew it would drive Aziraphale to the brink if he wanted. "You're swallowing me right up. Seems like you're a bit hungry as well, Mr. Fell."

"C-Crowley, you were almost ther- _ee_ - _nng!"_ he whined, feeling the tip graze right over his prostate teasingly. _He was purposefully avoiding it._

"What? Where? I don't know what you mean. I'm sorry if I'm having a bit of trouble...I have, after all, never done this with you before, so I can't be expected to have your body all _mapped out,_ now can I? ...Though I'd like to." he smirked, nudging right past it once more. "Where does it feel good?"

He sank in, holding his place for a moment and gave a few smaller, exploratory thrusts. "Here? What about here?" he purred, each time just barely missing. Aziraphale tried to reach down and stroke his own cock, but the waiter stopped his hand, pinning it back down to the table. "Now now, sir. Who's serving who tonight?"

" _Crowley!"_ he complained with a gasp, trying to angle himself desperately. Despite his frustration, he knew Crowley was getting closer himself, the cock inside him pumping faster and swelling with arousal. It felt hot, sliding in and out with indecently slick sounds. He felt himself slipping farther away on the tablecloth; the waiter grabbed his hips and pulled him back, securing him in place with an arm around his waist.

"You look just a little _ravenous_ , sir. Want something to help wash me down?" he simpered, sliding out long enough to reach for his cart, pulling it closer, and bringing back the half-eaten plate of crêpe. He set it down by Aziraphale's stomach. He looked down at the angel, who looked up with an expression of desperation as he was feeling suddenly very empty. 

"Don't stop!" he pleaded, moaning with satisfaction as he was filled once more. Crowley didn't move, staying in place as he picked up a spoon, dragging it across the plate and brought it back up to Aziraphale's mouth expectantly. 

"I think you'd do well with a few condiments. Open wide, Mr. Fell."

"What? How can I possibly-while you're- _hmmg!"_ he grunted as the spoon prodded at his lips, the waiter giving a little encouraging shove with his pelvis, and the angel let his mouth fall open, the utensil gliding in with ease. His mind was momentarily distracted by the sudden flavors, the strange blend of pleasure from the thick mousse center, melted ice cream and sugared berries mixing with his own arousal. He almost forgot to swallow, twitching as his cock dripped down on his belly, and Crowley waited patiently for the first bite to gulp down his throat before coming back with another. 

Nearby, people continued to dine, forks jangling on their plates, glasses chinking together. Every few minutes his eyes would look into the dim lights above, soon shadowed by the silhouette above. He realized throughout his time in this place that more plants had seemed to grow all around, ivy overtaking the ceiling and some of the tables around. 

"Hold on a moment...I almost forgot the garnish!" He used a finger to stir around in a line of chocolate syrup drizzle at the side of the plate and dripped it down on the angel's chest. 

"Is that good?" he murmured, and Aziraphale nodded shakily as he gave him a playful thrust, lapping up the trail of syrup with he looked up at the angel's stuffed mouth. A bit of cream had gotten caught on his chin that was soon licked up eagerly by the waiter above. Aziraphale wouldn't let his face retreat this time, grabbing Crowley behind the neck and shoving their mouths together. This caught him off guard, making a surprised sound in his throat, but soon made an effort of sucking all the cream off his lips, sliding his tongue inside to share the dessert. 

Aziraphale enjoyed a moment of quiet, all the noise around silencing for a minute as Crowley struggled to keep the illusions going, getting too distracted by the angel below. He let his body relax further onto the table, hands holding the back of the waiter's head to keep him close. 

When they finally parted, Aziraphale let his hands fall back down to his sides, looking up affectionately at his work. Crowley's face had flushed a shade darker, lips slightly parted and pink as he tried to get back into his role. There was bit of powdered sugar caught at the edge of his mouth, and the angel couldn't help but smile at the sight.

" _Fuck_ , this is more than a payment, Mr. Fell. Much more. If you were this willing to offer yourself up as a _prize_ to a complete _stranger,_ I can only imagine how it'd feel to be your _lover_. Been looking for someone lately? I think I'd like to take you back to my flat, tend to you like you deserve. I could serve you for the rest of your life, if you like. In every way you wish." 

"I don't know...the idea sounds awfully inviting. I'm just not sure." he chuckled, his chest laved of the sheen of sweet coating that remained. 

"What, not enough? How could I make you want me?"

"Well...you could start by making me come. I can't wait around all night, you know." 

"That can be arranged, Mr. Fell, without a doubt." he murmured, smile growing as he grabbed the angel's thighs and spread them wide, knees nearly hitting the table as he began pounding into him, angling his cock so that it didn't miss that sweet place once this time. 

Aziraphale cried out, finally letting his voice freely ring throughout the dining room, not giving a single care if anyone heard. The table began rocking and creaking, and Crowley had to break his self-made rules for a moment to miracle the thing stationary.

The angel's cock bounced over his stomach, hot and dripping, and continued to swell as the waiter finally wrapped a hand around it and began quickly pumping between each thrust. 

"Yes! That's absolu- _mmM-_ _perfect._ Please, _dd_ - _aahh!_ -dear, just like that!"

"I aim to please." He grunted, locking their mouths together and swallowing up all the angel's shuddering moans. Aziraphale released his hold on the tablecloth and instead wrapped his arm's around the waiter's neck, deepening the kiss and pulling him closer.

Precum was dripping between the angel's legs, a shiny sheen of sweat over his chest that the waiter was enjoying rubbing his hands over, a few fingers teasing his nipples with gentle tugs. His eyes were getting a little teary around the edges from the pleasure, trying to open his legs even farther as he felt an orgasm quickly climbing. 

Aziraphale trembled as he felt heat gush into him, hearing a low hiss emanate above him. He looked up with bleary vision, watching the stranger's brows knit together as he pounded in a few final thrusts through shaky breaths. The angel closed his eyes, feeling almost euphoric as the sensation of being used, savored brought him to the brink and held him there without tipping over the edge. He wanted to let these few moments last before he'd follow, feel the warmth filling him up perfectly.

"That's right, _f-fuck-_ that's it, just let it all go. Let me swallow you right up." the waiter growled, grabbing the angel's cock while he spoke and mercilessly rubbed at it, pulling him along into a climax that made Aziraphale arch his back on the table and wail, the noise resounding throughout the room. 

Crowley held him firmly in place all the while, looking down with wonder as his husband soon drooped down in a panting heap under his arms, spend coating his fingers. The tablecloth was dreadfully wrinkled and bunched around the angel's hips, his back pink from the friction. 

The world around flickered and swayed, fading out of sight till they found themselves crumbled on the floor of their cottage, exhausted but gasping out laughter. Crowley managed to wobble to his feet, gathering up the angel in his arms and practically falling into bed before he could set him down first. 

He didn't have the strength left to even lift the comforter, so resorted to a miracle just to get it over the both of them. They settled into their little shelter with long sighs and a few stray kisses, disregarding the mess they'd made of themselves. 

Crowley was nearly asleep within the next few minutes, stroking along the angel's back in a daze, enjoying the satisfyingly cushy skin.

 _"Crowley?"_ Aziraphale murmured from beneath his arms, not bothering to lift his face or open his eyes.

"Hm?"

"No, I mean the name. You really didn't think to change it for your role?"

"Well, I didn't take much of a shine to the idea of you moaning out someone else's."

"Oh- _Oh_."

"Though I will say I enjoyed being called _Mr. Crowley_ for sure. Did you call me that just to rile me up, or was it part of the act?" Aziraphale's face heated up at the memory, burying his face in the demon's shoulder to hide his embarrassment. 

"Ah...a bit of both, I suppose, now that I think about it. It just felt right at the time." 

"Well I wouldn't mind hearing you say it _all_ the time. Angel, y'did _perfectly_. You were astounding, just brilliant. Did you...d'you enjoy it too?"

"Of course. You really did go all out, making me feel like a proper guest. I felt positively spoiled the entire night."

"Well you should get used to it, you'll be spoilt another week at least. We have an absolute shitton of crêpes left...I didn't exactly have the easiest time figuring the recipe." he muttered, grimacing in the darkness of the room.

"So that's what you made me wait for?!" he chuckled, hearing the demon grumble against his chest. "I thought you were trying to toy with me." he murmured with a slight pout, hearing Crowley snort against him.

"Trust me angel, I thought I had everything ready. It would've taken all of ten minutes, but...well, you'll see when you look in the kitchen..."

"Oh dear...I think I'd like to stay here for a while longer." he sighed, head slipping farther under the covers. Everything was dark, safe and warm, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Good idea, angel, good idea."

"...Crowley?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. I must admit, it was a fantastic night. I never could've imagined I'd enjoy being...ah..." he flushed even more. 

" _Angel a la mode?"_

"Darling, I love you, but if you dare say one more-"

" _Sorry_ , _sorry_. Couldn't help myself." he snickered, hand picking up its stroking motion again as he felt the angel yawn deeply. He kissed his cheek, nuzzling further against him. "Goodnight angel. Hope you're hungry by breakfast."

**Author's Note:**

> I kept getting so hungry while writing this ;-;


End file.
